Wrapped In Music
by DrKhage
Summary: Beca has a secret and a theory. The secret is her mother is famous, and the theory is tearing her up inside and part of the reason she doesn't want to be sent to Barden.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, this is my first time writing for fun in a very long time, and I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Prologue:

_10 years ago…_

The famous singer Cindy Charlotte married her high school sweetheart, the unknown college professor Walt Mitchell, and they no longer saw eye-to-eye on the way they each decided to pass their time. Her mother enjoyed a good drink every now and again and she had meetings, concerts, and charity events to go to, and sure she like to go out carousing after these events, but her father worked a lot too. It was almost like he _wanted_ to be with his students on campus more than he wanted to be at home with her, his daughter. Poor Beca was beginning to know her mother's assistant as more of an authority figure than her own parents.

* * *

Beca could hear them fighting. She could always hear them fighting. She didn't understand why they fought, especially since Moms and Dads aren't supposed to fight. They are supposed to love each other until the end, right? And they did love each other, so they told Beca.

At least this time her mother's assistant, Deborah (Or Debbie as Beca called her), was around to keep her company, it made tuning the yelling out much easier. So they sat in an awkward silence surrounded by the sound of a television that was just a tad bit too loud to be considered healthy and just a little too quiet to cover the sounds coming from the one of the other rooms in the house. Fortunately, the fight was almost over. Unfortunately, that's when the door opened.

"You always threaten to leave, but here you are. Always blaming our problems on me, as usual!" Beca noticed Debbie cast a cautious glance over her shoulder towards her slightly swaying boss as she makes her way out of Walt's office, with Walt following closely behind. "You know, you aren't around much either, so how could you possibly know I'm not at home! You are just as guilty for this failing marriage as I am. If not more! With all the 'Extra credit opportunities' you are giving your students!"

Beca's father wasn't much of a yeller. Usually. "Are you saying that I've slept with students in order to help them pass?" He yelled with as much force as Cindy did, answering her anger with just as much of his own, "That's ridiculous! No self-respecting scholar or professor would _ever_ allow that to happen! And just so you know I am completely serious this time. I am not coming back."

With that he stomped down the hallway of the spacious house into the master bedroom, not casting a glance towards his daughter in the room nearby, and emerging almost instantly with a large suitcase. He grabbed a pair of keys off the counter and then walked to Beca.

He knelt in front of her placing a hand on her knee. "Be good sweetie." He stood up and placed a small kiss on the top of her head. Without another word, he walked out the door and left.

A few days later, the divorce papers arrived.

* * *

It definitely was not an easy divorce, but what divorce is easy? They argued over the cars and the wine collection, the house wasn't an issue because Walt received a job offer at a college off near Atlanta. They didn't really argue over Beca, apparently she reminded her father too much of her mother, and he couldn't look at her for too long.

So Beca stayed with her mother in California. She still didn't understand what happened.

* * *

As the years progressed Beca has learned one thing: in her mother's world, work comes first. Period the end, no need for discussion. It was with gradual understanding that Beca learned that the people who surrounded her mother were closer to her than her mother was, moreso Debbie than anyone else.

Family dinner night mostly consisted of her and Debbie talking over school (for the first few years), or how she was doing with the home-schooling while on her mother's new tour, while her mother dined on a nice glass of wine. It wasn't perfect, but it was all Beca knew.

* * *

_Current Day…_

It was one of those rare occasions where they had been home for more than two weeks in a row when Beca heard a knock on her door. "Just a sec," she hoped she didn't yell too loud, but those big headphones distort your perception of vocal levels. Beca fiddled with a few more dials and knobs before she took her headphones off and stood up to get the door. Apparently she could have stayed at her computer.

"Beca. I hope you don't mind that I let myself in, judging by how loud you yelled, I assumed you had your music on," Her mother briefly smiled at her, "Since you're up though, why don't you come sit on the bed with me." She patted a spot on the bed next to her. Again she smiled. This one was a little longer, but there was something hiding behind it. This whole situation was strange. Her mom usually left her alone. They weren't exactly close. "We need to talk about something."

Uh-oh. Her mother _never_ "needed to talk" to her about anything. She got _the talk_ from Debbie, which was all sorts of uncomfortable. If her mom wanted, needed, to talk to her about something, it could only be something big.

Beca hesitated before she sat down next to her mother. "Hey Mom, so, uh, what's up?" This was not something she had experience in. Having a conversation with her mother? Rarely happened. What was going on?

"Well," Cindy fidgeted with one of the many bracelets encircling he wrist, before she continued, "I spoke, well, Deb spoke, to your father today," Beca couldn't keep the shock off of her face. "Yeah, its… complicated."

"I fail to see how it's complicated. Surprising, yeah, but complicated…" Beca was surprised. Really surprised. Her father couldn't remember her birthday, but called and spoke to her mom, well to Deb, but about something he wanted to speak to her mom about. "What's going on."

It wasn't a question. Something was going on and Beca wanted to know what it was. All this beating around the bush was making her nervous. "Well, your father thinks that you should go to college." Cindy finished her statement without flourish. In fact, the last words were almost a whisper. Beca's jaw was on the floor. Before she could gather her thoughts, her mother continued, "Now, I know how you feel about schooling, but you have been out of high school for a year now, only working on your music. And I understand why you love it so much, I do." When Beca looked into her mother's eyes. She saw that they were clear. For the first time since as far back as she can remember, her mother's eyes weren't clouded with alcohol.

Beca laughed quietly to herself while gently shaking her head back and forth, "No, Mom, apparently you don't." Her mother tried to interject, but Beca cut her off, "No, listen. Music has been the only constant in my life. When no one else was there, I had my music. When you were too busy looking for new inspiration in the bottom of a bottle, I found relief in the form a beat and rhythm. When everyone walked out, because eventually, everyone does walk out, I wrapped the music around myself because no one, _no one_, was there." She dropped her head and took a breath. When she lifted her head back up, she looked straight at her mother.

"Beca, I'm sorry that you feel that way," Beca almost believed that she meant those words, "But it's been decided. You are going to attend Barden University. It will give you a chance to be near your father, further your education, and, God forbid, maybe make some friends." Beca flinched at the last part, "Classes start in a week, and you fly out in six days. Start packing and say goodbye to who you need to."

With that, Cindy stood up to walk out of her daughter's room, and that's what she did. She left, because eventually, everybody walks out.

* * *

Six days later the car pulls up to drop Beca at the airport. In the car sits Deb and Cindy. She awkwardly car-hugs both of them, and opens the door to leave, but not before her mother gets in some last minute words, "Don't forget to call your father when you board so he can be there to pick you up and drive you to campus! Also, be good, play nice, make friends, and no matter how much you don't believe it, I think this will be good for you." Heartfelt as ever. Beca nods her head in recognition and goes off to find her terminal.

Beca sits there in the terminal wondering what she did to deserve this. What Mayan gods did she piss off that, instead of ending the world, ended _her_ world. And that's her singular thought as she boards the plane, and waits for it to take off.

When the plane finally pulls it's landing gear in, Beca can't help but think about what her parents got her into, why they are suddenly taking an interest in her life, and what waits for her at Barden University.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, I'm going to try to update at least once a week (hopefully more, if school isn't too demanding). Thanks for all the feedback and support thus far. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The plane landed and Beca got off and went to get her bags. It wasn't everything that she was bringing, but it was the essentials until the rest got to Barden. It took some time, but after awhile she was able to locate a taxicab to take her to campus. She'd be damned if she was having her father drive her. That was one car ride that she definitely didn't want to endure. The cab ride wouldn't be cheap, but mother-dearest offered (well, not exactly) to pay for it. She certainly wouldn't notice the expense on her bill though. So Beca loaded her bags into the trunk of the cab, and slid into the back. With a deep breath she gave the cabdriver the school's address, and they were off with no more chances to turn back.

* * *

The cab pulled into Barden's central campus area sometime in the afternoon. She got out and paid the driver, then went around and made sure she got the bag containing the DJ'ing equipment she packed, while some volunteers grabbed the rest of her stuff. She shouldered the bag and turned around to go look for her dorm when an overly enthusiastic woman spoke to her, and began giving her directions. Beca tuned her out almost immediately and started to take in her surroundings.

A car pulled up a few feet away, stopping briefly. The backseat held a boy, a freshman Beca assumed, who was jamming to 'Carry On My Wayward Son' by Kansas. His voice wasn't bad, she had to admit, but his air-guitar skills were sub-par, which she didn't think was even possible. It was clear he was singing to her, but only because she was the only one paying him any attention. The boy's parents continued driving, throwing him back into his seat. Beca could only raise her eyebrows in a good-for-you-what-the-hell-is-going-on kind of way before she turned back to the chipper woman in front of her.

"And here's your Barden University rape whistle. Remember; don't blow it, unless it's actually happening," Beca accepted the whistle and held it between her teeth as she headed off in the direction of her dorm.

Beca didn't know what to think. She's been here, not even 5 minutes, and already there were people serenading a complete stranger from a car and over-excited women handing out free whistles. Was this how the entire east coast was? Or was it specific to Barden? _Who does that?_ These were her thoughts as she wove through campus, through the throngs of people, towards what she hoped would be at least short time of peace.

* * *

Beca didn't know what to expect when she got to her room, but it certainly wasn't what she opened the door to.

First, she had a roommate. What's the point of going to the college your father works at if you don't get any perks, like a room to yourself? Her first interaction with Kimmy Jin was not the best. Hell, the girl only glared at her after she actually tried to have a civil conversation. _Well, this should be fun, _Beca thought to herself as she set her laptop up and hooked the rest of her gear up to it, trying to get slightly settled.

As she started to turn dials and knobs, altering a mix she was working on, the door opened, revealing none other than her father, who tried, and failed, at cracking a joke. The one good thing that came from her dad entering the room was she learned that it wasn't just her that the Korean didn't respond to. Apparently she didn't talk to anyone. In fact, Beca was beginning to wonder if her roommate was mute.

After his attempt to talk to her roommate, Walt turned his attention to his daughter. "So, when did you get here, how did you get here?" He stood with his hands in his pockets and he looked over his daughter, surprised to see how much she had changed since he last saw her.

"Took a cab. Didn't want to inconvenience you and Sheila. How is the step-monster?" Beca didn't even try to hide her resentment for her step-mother. It wasn't Sheila's fault that her parents divorced, but that didn't mean that Beca had to be civil with the woman, especially since Sheila didn't give Beca a reason to be.

"She is fine, thank you for asking. She's actually in Vegas, at a conference. Work has her-"

"Oh, no. Dad, I don't actually care," Beca interrupted because she actually didn't care. She just wanted her dad to leave her alone, but apparently that wasn't going to happen. "That's cool though, how you are completely okay with her not being around and home all the time," Beca knew it wasn't a good thing to say, especially since she hadn't seen him for over a year. But it was bad enough that she had to be here, so she didn't think it necessary to be too nice to the main cause of her attendance at Barden.

Walt sighed at his daughter. He had a feeling this would come up eventually. He rarely saw her over the years, and knew she still resented everything that happened all those years ago. Still, he had to try, "Come on Bec, that isn't fair. Those are two completely different scenarios." Beca didn't entirely agree with him, but she really didn't want to deal with this now.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one because Kimmy Jin stood up to leave, announcing quickly that she would be heading down to the activities fair before heading out of the still open door. This left Beca and Dr. Mitchell alone in her room.

Father and daughter both sighed in unison, not sure where to go from here. Dr. Mitchell found a direction to go in first, "So, what do you plan to do about your mother?" It was a weak attempt at keeping a conversation, but it was all he had. "Do you plan to let people know who she is?"

"I'm not going to run around introducing myself as her daughter dad. I actually plan not to tell anyone," It wasn't really information she wanted to share. Sure her mother was a great performer, but sometimes she fell flat when someone had expectations of who she was off the stage. It has also lead Beca to some trouble on multiple occasions. "Do you go around telling everyone you are the ex-husband of Cindy Charlotte?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "I understand why you're curious dad, but she's not part of my identity. Sure she's family, but I am a separate person from who I'm related to. I'd say that much is obvious," Beca gestured weakly to the space between the two of them. The activities fair was starting to sound like a good idea at this point. Not that she was interested in joining anything, but it would get here away from this room, and her father.

Her father sighed, not sure how to answer. "Look, I understand you are not happy to be here, but a good education is important, and I am glad you're here. It gives us a chance to make up for lost time."

Beca decided it was time to leave. The Activities Fair had to be better than this, and with any luck her father will think she is actually interested in joining something. "Well Dad, this has been fun and all, but I would really like to get to know my roommate, so I'm going to go try to meet up with her at the fair," She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb in the general direction she would be heading, as she walked out the door. She was suddenly glad she hadn't taken her headphones off before her father walked in.

* * *

The Activities Fair was in full swing at this point. The sun was high in the sky keeping the air warm. Chloe stood next to Aubrey as they tried to convince girls to come try out for their a cappella group, the Barden Bellas. They were failing, miserably.

"This is a travesty," Chloe Beale, senior at Barden and co-captain of the Barden Bellas turned towards her best friend and captain of the Bellas, Aubrey Posen. "What are we going to do?" She was worried, and rightfully so. After last year's…_incident_, which everyone seemed to know about, no one would give the Bellas the time of day. Well, not no one, but not the usual type of girl that the Bellas would accept. They had already been approached by a few girls who didn't know about what had happened. They didn't fit the typical Bella mold, but seeing as they were in no position to turn anyone down, they handed them flyers with the audition information on them.

Aubrey looked over at her best friend. She was just as worried as Chloe. They had a tradition to uphold, and nothing would stop her this year. "Chloe, calm down. So we haven't been approached by the typical Bella. They are out there somewhere; we just need to find them. It might take some convincing, but I'm sure we can do it!" Aubrey said these things to comfort herself about as much as she said them to comfort Chloe. She had been trusted to lead this group, and she was going to get them back to Lincoln Center. She had to get them back there. "Just, keep your eye out, and keep handing out flyers!"

So that's what she did, she kept trying to hand out flyers, more often than not getting shrugged off. Chloe didn't know what to expect this year. She knew it had to be great though, because it was her senior year after all. She hopes Aubrey has a plan, because she has no clue what they are going to do. What keeps her here, pointlessly trying to talk girls into singing with them, is the knowledge that this year will be the best year yet, it just needs help getting there. And while Chloe is patient, waiting for the catalyst that will start the year off is becoming tiring, even if it is the day before classes start. She's ready to go; she just needs something great to walk into her life to start it all.


	3. Chapter 2

Beca had been wandering around the activities fair for a couple of minutes, not paying much attention to the tables she was passing. The entire fair was chaotic and there was no telling what one person was shouting, because someone else was trying to shout over them. To her, it didn't seem like the most efficient way to try to get people to join whatever group you were part of.

A few tables down, something finally caught Beca's attention. The banner named the group the "Barden DJ's". She had just arrived at the table, promptly ignoring the poster board they had set up explaining the group, for some papers that lay flat on the table. She stepped back, realizing this wasn't what she was looking for when someone walked up next to her.

"Aww, yeah. DJ's. Deaf Jews…" The large blonde accompanied the statement with a half-hearted scratch noise and motion. Beca acknowledged her with a faint head nod, ready to walk away.

Before she could turn away, the two guys manning the booth turned around to greet the girls, "Shalom!" Beca really didn't know what to say so she stood there awkwardly as she tried to figure out a way to get away from the table.

"That's not a real word but keep trying," the blonde nearly shouted at the guys on the other side of the table.

"Not many Jewish people where you're from?" Beca wasn't entirely sure where this girl was from, but her accent indicated she was not from around here. She also had to wonder how many Jewish people, especially deaf ones, went to this school if there was club.

The blonde took a moment before responding, "Not really. My family once tried to celebrate Passover, but it turned more into 'Passover that dish,' if you get what I'm saying. Lots of good food."

Beca gave the blonde an unsure nod as the girl turned towards the table. Beca decided this certainly was not the group for her and walked away, ready to see what the rest of the fair held, hoping she wouldn't have another exchange like that last one. She was really not prepared for those types of interactions.

* * *

It was hopeless. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they were not getting as many girls interested as they would have liked. Even with Aubrey somewhat accepting the fact that they needed good singers more than they needed to fit the Bella mold, recruiting still proved a difficult task.

Aubrey and Chloe had been quiet for the past few minutes. Neither of them were really feeling up to the usual easy conversation that flowed between the two friends. Both girls were keeping an eye on students that were walking by, trying to pick out anyone that seemed like a potential Bella.

"Aubrey! What about her?" Chloe nudged her friend and then used her pen to point in the direction of a small brunette who had comically large headphones around her neck. Chloe was instantly drawn to the girl. The way she walked made it seem like she didn't have a care in the world, or if she did, she could not care less about it. She was easily shorter than everyone around her, but the confidence with which she held herself made people give her room to walk. It was certainly an odd phenomenon.

"Oh, Chloe, no. She seems a little too 'alternative' for us," Aubrey said, quick to show her immediate distaste for the girl. Apparently she wasn't as ready to be accepting as Chloe had thought.

That wouldn't stop Chloe though. Before Aubrey could stop her she took a small step towards the brunette who was now close enough to talk to, thrust out a hand containing a flyer and said, "Hi, any interest in joining our a cappella group?"

* * *

Beca had seen about all that the activities fair had to offer at this point, and honestly, there was a whole bunch of nothing. Who would join a Quidditch team in college, sure the books were good, and Quidditch seems cool, but running with a broom between your legs? No thanks. Or the Running in Circles group? Was there a purpose to that? Before she leaves the fair, Beca figures she should check out the Internship table, to see if there is anything there worthwhile. So that's where she starts heading.

Trying to keep her head down and off the radar, Beca thinks she is practically invisible, just as she wants, so she lets her mind begin to wander to thoughts of the upcoming semester.

Beca was partway through a thought concerning her philosophy class and its purpose, when a voice and a hand broke into her line of sight. "Hi, any interest in joining our a cappella group?" Beca looked up from the ground to look at the person who broke her train of thought, only to be ensnared in the bluest eyes surrounded by a cascade of red hair.

It took Beca a second to realize that the redhead and the blonde at her side were staring at her, waiting for an answer. "Wait. What?" Was all she was able to come up with under weight of the redhead's gaze.

"Our a cappella group. The Barden Bellas. We're the tits," the Bella gestured between herself and the blonde standing rigidly beside her. "We do covers of songs without the use of any instruments. It's all from our mouths." Again, using the pen to gesture, except this time it pointed to her mouth, effectively bringing Beca's eyes with it.

"Wow. Sounds kinda lame," Beca was able to recover a little quicker this time. She knew what a cappella was, and it had never really held her interest. She much preferred to work with synthetic sounds, so while she respected the world of a cappella, she was not eager to become a part of it.

"Lame? There is nothing lame about dancing to female singers chart toppers," the tall blonde interjected, defending her activity of choice. Beca briefly wondered if they had sang any of her mother's songs, but quickly disregarded the thought.

"Yikes. Sounds rough," Beca was getting tired of this, even if one of the people she was talking to was an attractive redhead, with crystal eyes, who could apparently sing as well.

The blonde visibly bristled. "Aca-scuse me? There is nothing 'rough' about what we do either. See, I told you Chloe, she's not Bellas material," with that, the blonde turned and took a few steps away, busying herself with something that didn't involve the alternative brunette.

"Don't mind Aubrey. She's a bit protective," Chloe quickly defended her friend, still not ready to give up on getting this girl to join. "But she's right. We are a close knit group of girls whose dream it is to return to the ICCAs this year. Help us make our dreams a reality?" It might have been low, but Chloe noticed how earlier, the freshman seemed to get lost in her eyes, as many people have, and used it to her advantage, looking straight into her eyes, with what she hoped was a charming smile.

"That's cool, and I'm certainly rooting for you guys to get there," Beca could see what Chloe was trying to do, and she was determined not to fall for it. Which means she had to get away, and quickly, "But I don't even sing, Sorry." It was a lie. In fact, she sang quite well. She had even filled in for some of her mother's backup vocalists when touring with her in Europe, because the one girl got some serious food poisoning. That didn't change the fact that she was not interested in a cappella, even if this girl was involved. That's why, before Chloe could say another word she started walking away, not before she saw the redhead's face fall as she turned towards her friend.

Beca headed to her initial destination, the Internship table, trying to get the fiery haired girl off her mind with anything she could. It was proving to be a difficult task as she looked over the places looking for interns, nothing sparking her interest until she came to the school's radio station near the end of the list. She decided it would be the best place for her to work while she was stuck here. She could use it to smooth out any rough edges her mixes had. She put her name on the list, and decided it was time to go back to her room, hoping her father had left, because the Activities Fair had proven to be a little bit more unusual than she would have expected.

* * *

"You were right about the brunette. Though, you were wrong about the reason," the disappointment was evident in Chloe's voice. She had hoped the girl would at least try out. "It's because she doesn't sing, not because she's 'too alternative'. Whatever that means." Chloe mumbled the last bit to herself. She busied herself with shuffling around some of the many flyers on the table, trying to remove the brunette from her mind, but finding herself unable to. What was it about her that Chloe was caught up on?

Aubrey turned back towards Chloe not entirely surprised that the brunette declined, "Well, whatever the reason, I called it. She didn't have the look, and she can't sing. The two things we require, and she had neither. Figures."

Chloe let it go. It was no use arguing with Aubrey given the circumstance. The taller Bella didn't need the extra stress the argument would bring. They had enough girls signed up to audition that losing one didn't matter, and that was all that mattered.

As the Activities Fair came to a close a few hours later, Chloe's mind was still on the small brunette who didn't sing, and the overwhelming sense, that the girl had been lying.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. I had/have a bunch of exams and finally got enough of a lull to get this written and out. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Beca walked into the building the radio station was in, ready to start her first day. She was uncharacteristically excited, but in a place like Barden, she hadn't expected to find anything she might remotely enjoy, nonetheless something that could directly help her in her pursuit of music.

As she entered the area dedicated to the radio station, she let her eyes wander around and drank in the details. The interior was dusty and contained shelves lined with old vinyl and stacked CD's. The place seemed chaotically organized, but Beca new she could see this place becoming her getaway from everything else. It already felt comfortable and familiar to her.

She made her way to the back, looking for any signs of life other than the sounds coming from the speakers that were placed sporadically on the walls. She found the booth in the back of the station unoccupied. She lost herself in her thoughts looking over the equipment set up on the other side of the window. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make Beca more excited to be there.

"You must be Becky the intern?" Her thoughts were interrupted by a British accent that was almost enough to make her knees weak. Almost. She let her eyes wander to the owner of the voice, to find a guy with a tall stature and muscled torso staring at her. "I'm Luke, the station manager. C'mon then, let's get you started," He turned around and walked back into the room, Beca stepping to follow him.

"Umm, yeah. Intern," _Great first impression, Beca. Keep it up._ She continued following him, about to step into the booth, "And it's actua-"

Luke cut her off, "No freshman allowed in the booth." He turned back to face her, holding a crate full of CDs. He headed back her way, and out of the booth, she followed. "Now you and the other intern will be stacking CDs and shelving them," He put the crate on a desk in the center of the station. The table didn't seem stable enough to support the CDs.

Before he could continue, the door opened with a ring of a bell indicating someone had entered. She assumed it would be the other intern, and looked over to see who she would be working with. If her face didn't already show her discontent, it did now. _It would be._ The boy from the car hustled to where she and Luke stood around the table, quickly introducing himself, "Hi, I'm Jesse. I'm here to intern." A goofy smile lit up his face when he looked over at Beca, and she assumed he recognized her. "Oh hey! Looks like we'll be working together! Cool huh?"

Instead of answering, Beca looked from him to Luke, mentally urging Luke to do something. He stood with his arms crossed looking over Jesse, "I'm Luke, and you're late. You and Becky here will be stacking and putting away CDs, as well as putting away vinyl." He gestured loosely to the CDs in the crate in front of him.

"That's not my na-" Beca started, but Luke had already turned and walked back to the booth, "-me." The end of the word was released with a huff of air that made it seem like a mumble.

"Oh, and no sex on the desk," Luke popped his head back out of the booth. "People have been banned before." With that, he shut the booth door, sat down and his headphones back on, resuming work. Beca wondered if the table could even support the weight of the activity. She didn't ponder it for long.

Beca sighed. _This was not what I had in mind._ She looked at the crate briefly, before she started removing the CDs, fully intent on stacking her way out of the building. She began to stack the CDs, paying her companion no mind, planning to continue to ignore his existence for the rest of her shift.

Unfortunately for her, Jesse felt that the time would pass more quickly if there was some conversation going on. "So, Becky, right? Is that short for Rebecca or something?" He looked up to her as he finished speaking, looking for an answer from her.

He kept looking at her, even after an inappropriate amount of time has passed with an expectant look on his face. At first, Beca could ignore it, but as the time crept forward, she cast glances at him, noting how each time she did, his eyes were on her. "My name is Beca, not Becky," she shot him a warning glance, hoping to give him enough information in this brief interaction to keep him off her back for awhile. "And as for it being short for anything," she shrugged, "it doesn't matter since everyone calls me Beca."

No such luck on her part. "What? Don't like your full name?" He went to nudge her with his elbow, but she leaned out of range.

"It's not that I don't like it, I just don't use it. That makes it irrelevant," Beca kept her head on the task in front of her, hoping the conversation would end soon.

Jesse wasn't going to be deterred so easily. "Irrelevant or not, I'd like to know," He gave her a sincere look, one that she answered with a look that was a mix of disbelief and confusion. Jesse took her look as a way to continue on, "What? I like knowing things."

"Then read a textbook," Beca answered, allowing all of her enthusiasm for the situation enter her voice, which left her statement sounding flat and uninterested.

"You," He shook his finger at her, "are a hard nut to crack. Lucky for you I enjoy a challenge." A challenge? Was she supposed to be remotely flattered by that? She was beginning to think Jesse was a new shade of stupid. "You know what, why don't we get to know each other in a better setting. Like over dinner? It could be more exciti-"

"No," Beca's response cut him off but offered no explanation.

"Oh come on now! You didn't even think about it!" His face only seemed more determined now.

Beca looked up at him as she responded, "Didn't have to. Not interested."

"Not interested? I'm fun and adorable, what's there not to like?" Beca could almost see her words going in one ear and out the other, not being processed by the mass of tissue that should be between his ears.

She put the CDs in her hands down to address him, hoping to finally get her point across. "You seem like a sweet guy," He beamed at her, "But I am really not interested. At all. You aren't my type, and I can't see you becoming my type."

"Not you're type? That's an unfair assumption. Why don't we see about that," She could see the determination in his stance, he was really not taking the hint. "Well, what is your type then?"

Beca decided that if this was ever going to be over, she had to be blunt, "Girl." She watched his face change from determined, if not cocky, to confused, then to a resigned acceptance.

Jesse nodded his head slightly. "Huh. Well. I guess you were right." Beca relaxed a tension in her shoulders as her head fell back to her work. "Fine then. I guess we'll have to settle on being bros." A silence fell around them as they both tried to make progress in their workload. It was a relief to Beca, a relief that didn't last long, "You should just accept it, the fact that we're going to be bros that is. It will be easier in the long run."

She could tell he was trying to pull her into some form of conversation, but she wasn't going to bite. She just wanted to finish and get out of there. Maybe the studio wasn't going to be as good of a getaway as she thought.

* * *

The first few weeks of class held a monotony that Beca assumed only school could manage. After traveling with her mother, the uniformity of her day to day life was slowly causing Beca to go crazy. Everyday held classes, school work, and work at the station, where she would be forced to endure hours of Jesse's one sided conversations or his attempts to get her to go out and be a wingman for him.

It was on one of the rare days where she had off from the station that she was sitting in her room, working on mixes that something different happened, though not entirely good.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to see her father, looking down at her.

"Good afternoon Beca. Shouldn't you be in class right now?" He knew her schedule. Of course he knew her schedule. "I've noticed that you've been absent from quite a good number of your classes recently. Care to explain?"

_No._ "Well, I figured my time could be better utilized elsewhere." She answered him, noticing his eyebrows furrow at her words.

"Better utilized? Where could you be spending time that's better than in class?" He looked at her incredulously, as if classes were held to a higher standard than everything else.

"Well, mostly here. Or at the station. Keeping up with my mixes, you know, what I want to do with my life." She didn't want to hear this right now. She'd actually rather hear anything but the lecture she was going to get from her father.

"Beca," He drew her name out as if it were a sigh and let his head drop before continuing. "You are here to get an education, not to make mixes or waste time in that dirty building. You are wasting a good opportunity. A _free_ opportunity I might add."

Now it was Beca's turn to sigh. "Dad, I understand why you think all of this," she gestured to her surroundings, making a point to gesture outside, "is important. But for me, it's not. I can't understand why you don't see that the love you have for books is the love I have for music. You wanted to spend your life with books, so you went to school and found a way to live cover to cover. I want to spend my life in music, and so I'm trying to wrap myself in it however I can. That just happens to exclude class." She finished with a shrug of her shoulders and lowered her eyes to her hands which lay in her lap. She just needed him to understand.

An unnoticed look of compassion crossed his features as he looked at his daughter. "I'll make a deal with you." This caught her attention. "You're already a month into classes, but if you start putting in real effort, and I have to see that effort, then I'll support your dream and help you move to L.A." His face contorted in a way that made Beca feel like it actually caused him pain to say that. "But you have to try. And," Ah, the catch, "You have to join at least one club to _actively_ participate in."

One club and some effort in her classes. She could do that. Beca looked up to her father's eyes, "Okay, fine. But I'm not going to let you out of this one." She would do this, and then she'd be off to follow her dreams. Quick and painless. One year couldn't be that bad. "But, effort in classes _does not_ mean A's." Sure she'd try, but trying doesn't mean perfect scores.

He smiled at her then, and she smiled back. She stood up and shook his hand before escorting him the couple of steps to her door. "Alright then. Don't think this talk is it until the year is up." He looked at her from the other side of the doorway. "I'll be checking up on you from time to time. Have a good afternoon."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't. So Beca said her good-bye and shut the door. She turned back to her room and headed to her desk to do some work, fueled by a new drive to get through this year.


End file.
